04-04-2009, 12:57 PM
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300+
His prey was smaller and thus weaker, a coyote and thus lesser. The boy was quick, like a mouse. But the Korean was the cat here, and his being was built for the killing of such things. The claws that had aimed for the thing caught nothing, tearing the earth instead as he landed with a heavy but silent grace. Already his body was turning, even before he had completely set himself upon the ground. The black orbs watched their quarry as the jaws snapped like thunder about the air. The air shuddered from the shock of it as he moved forward. And the pied brute saw the look in the boy’s eye, saw his posture. That laughter echoed within his mind. So this was a little soldier boy? Perhaps this thing was a playmate of his daughter, who had taken to that life of war. The crow wolf did not believe this young thing was more than that, if that at all.
The brute may have been large, but his sinew was wound tightly about his lean frame. And the endless training of his culture’s martial arts made him quick and powerful, even in this secui form. His movements were light and precise, each attack ending with a power that sounded with a snap. He smelled the other’s fear as he closed in, drank it in like a drug. And the Korean did not wait for the other to make another move. He would attack first and he would rise victorious—as he always did. Propelled with a speed and agility that far belied his appearance, that shard of darkness that held the light as a warning moved head on. He did not waste his time with maneuvers he did not require, but his trained body was ready to move with smaller thing, to adjust. He used his great head bringing it up to catch the coyote’s jaw like an uppercut, the movement brief but powerful. He wanted the thing beneath him so that his claws would be satisfied.
300+
His prey was smaller and thus weaker, a coyote and thus lesser. The boy was quick, like a mouse. But the Korean was the cat here, and his being was built for the killing of such things. The claws that had aimed for the thing caught nothing, tearing the earth instead as he landed with a heavy but silent grace. Already his body was turning, even before he had completely set himself upon the ground. The black orbs watched their quarry as the jaws snapped like thunder about the air. The air shuddered from the shock of it as he moved forward. And the pied brute saw the look in the boy’s eye, saw his posture. That laughter echoed within his mind. So this was a little soldier boy? Perhaps this thing was a playmate of his daughter, who had taken to that life of war. The crow wolf did not believe this young thing was more than that, if that at all.
The brute may have been large, but his sinew was wound tightly about his lean frame. And the endless training of his culture’s martial arts made him quick and powerful, even in this secui form. His movements were light and precise, each attack ending with a power that sounded with a snap. He smelled the other’s fear as he closed in, drank it in like a drug. And the Korean did not wait for the other to make another move. He would attack first and he would rise victorious—as he always did. Propelled with a speed and agility that far belied his appearance, that shard of darkness that held the light as a warning moved head on. He did not waste his time with maneuvers he did not require, but his trained body was ready to move with smaller thing, to adjust. He used his great head bringing it up to catch the coyote’s jaw like an uppercut, the movement brief but powerful. He wanted the thing beneath him so that his claws would be satisfied.